Polyanthus
by Jason Strong
Summary: Harsh rains soil Rachel's spring break plans. But when Aphrodite shows up to offer explanation, Rachel begins to understand that even the gods can find true love when she is sent back to witness the tragedy of Apollo and the prince, Hyacinth. Three shot.


**A/N A few things. Originally, this was supposed to be a oneshot. However, when I realized how long it was going to be, I figured out that that is probably not the best idea. So, I figure I'm going to split it into three different chapters. I hope you guys enjoy it. **

**I realize that they characters are fairly modern in places where they shouldn't be. I figure I'd rather have them act as they did when they appeared in the PJO novels, as opposed to you all screaming at me because they are OOC. What I'm saying is, when the characters appear in Ancient Greece, they act no differently than they do in the novels. I'm not perfect, can't fix every issue. **

**I promise that I will update this one. Especially if I get good feedback. **

Ah, spring break.

There was nothing like it for most. Fresh air, perfect weather, not too hot, not too cold, beaches, swim suit bodies, all the things that you see on Baywatch, or Summerland. Most kids looked forward to spring break over all the other breaks, because it was a time to get drunk, get high, get laid, and just…relax.

Not if you're Rachel Elizabeth Dare, though. Because she just had the worst luck. When she heard she was going to be spending her spring break in a newly-purchased family beach house in the Florida Keys, she finally thought that she may have some time to…you know—be a kid.

But of course, as always, her parade had to be rained on. Literally. It hadn't stopped pouring since her plane landed at the airport. Usually, she liked rain. It gave her the perfect relaxing environment she needed to do all the things her father didn't want her to do—like art.

This break, however, she wanted to actually enjoy herself. Rachel wanted to get out of the indoors, embrace nature, spend some time on the beach, maybe even play a little volleyball, which was something that she likely wouldn't ordinarily do. But of course, the rain prevented her from having any sort of fun.

She supposed it could be worse. She could be trapped somewhere that didn't have an indoor pool and a hot tub, or a billiards table and large screen television. It was a nice house; she just…didn't expect to have to see so much of it. The Keys were beautiful, even from what she could see out her window in the pouring rain. She wanted to see it for herself.

There was something _wrong _with the rain, on top of all of this. It sounded completely and totally crazy, but, ever sense Rachel had been linked more to the gods through Apollo, she sometimes just…knew things. They weren't like random facts that just popped in her head, they came to her in strong feelings—possibly you could say they were instinct. She knew not what they meant, but she was sure they came from the prophetic aspect of the sun god.

Rachel wished, though, that she knew what the feelings actually meant, that they were clearer to her. It was very unsatisfying to know that there was something going on—something bad—yet to not know what that _something _was. It was almost like someone had a secret, and you knew they had a secret, and it possibly had something to do with you, and yet, they refused to tell you.

Some things came clear to her, though. She knew that there was going to be a devastating rain from a sort of…prediction she had made earlier. She just didn't know her party would be the party devastated by it.

Rachel sat up on the bed, wrapping the white linen sheet around her body. A sudden knot formed in her stomach, it was a type of pain she got every now and again. Her body still wasn't completely used to the changes that had been made, though it wasn't a big change.

She pushed herself off the bed, and walked over to the window. The rain hadn't lessened; in fact, she'd venture to say that it might have gotten worse! It was six o'clock in the afternoon, and the sky was almost completely dimmed by the thick clouds. Rain pounded the ground relentlessly, and thunder shook the earth with every intense crash.

Rachel watched as the massive wind yanked a branch off a nearby tree and dropped it into the road—which not a car dared to drive on, in weather this terrible. Rachel had seen many storms, hurricanes, even, but she couldn't quite recall one that scared her this much.

Did the feeling she had mean that something absolutely terrible was going to happen during the storm? She imagined something like a tornado would come, and rip its' way through the Keys, destroying anything and everything that stood in the way.

She shook the thought. It was a bad one. Ever since last summer, Rachel had had this ridiculous fear that if she thought something bad was going to happen, it would. Almost as if she controlled the future herself. She knew it was ridiculous, but she didn't want to take any chances. She didn't know the full extent of what she could do yet, and there was no sense putting anyone in danger.

Suddenly, there was a blast of lightening that Rachel, even turned away from the window, could tell that it lit the entire sky like a giant stage light, followed immediately by an angry roar of thunder, which brought blackness to her beach home.

The electricity went out. Of _course. _

Before Rachel had too much of a chance to get too frustrated about the situation, the power returned, and her lights were restored. Rachel quietly and sarcastically thanked the gods under her breath. The idea of being in her unfamiliar vacation house alone, in the rain with no electricity gave her the creeps.

"The keys, huh?" a voice asked from behind Rachel. She spun around, on her bed, laid a woman in pink pajamas, watching her. "Personally, I prefer Hawaii, but, hey, it's your vacation."

The woman readjusted herself into a sitting position, and looked down at her nails, beginning to pick at them cautiously.

"Lady Aphrodite," Rachel said, amused. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" The goddess, even in pajamas, was infuriatingly beautiful. Though her style had taken on a more modern look than previously assigned to her.

Her was wavy, and primped to perfection. The color it now obtained was curious—as Rachel hadn't seen many people who could pull it off. It was practically three different colors, brown, brilliantly blonde, and every now and then there was red.

"What?" Aphrodite asked, standing up. "I can't come over for a sleepover? A little girl time?" Rachel looked at her, unsure of how to respond. The goddess smiled, and yanked a small bag off her bed. "I'll do your nails!"

-1-

The two girls sat on the bed, and Rachel gave her hand to Aphrodite, who began fishing through her bag to find a nail file.

"So," Rachel began. "How can I help you?" The goddess locked eyes with the prophet, and held it there, her shimmering blue eyes suddenly flickered golden, and then Aphrodite looked back down at what she was doing.

"I told you. I came to see you, talk to you—here it is!" Aphrodite squealed in triumph as she help up the nail file in victory. She shot the bag a dirty look, as if she had something to prove to it, like it had outsmarted her once—and considering the goddess that she was sitting next to, she knew it was very possible.

"Talk to me about what?" Rachel asked, as Aphrodite began filing away at her thumb.

Aphrodite didn't look up. "Are you afraid of me, girl?"

"No." Rachel answered, almost instantly.

"Are you afraid of any of us?"

This time Rachel hesitated. "I try not to be."

"Good." The goddess said, as she blew the dust-fragments off Rachel's thumb. "I'm here about this—" Aphrodite looked towards the window, and then back at the girl with disgust. "Lovely spring weather."

Rachel looked at her, confused. "Why did you come to me? If you're looking for someone to blame, try The Weather Channel…"

Aphrodite looked at her, and grasped her hands a little tighter. "Because your patron god is the one that is causing it." After she got her sentence out, thunder ominously shook the horizon. The beautiful deity didn't pay much mind, and pushed a tuft of blondish-brown hair out of her face.

Taking a second to process this, Rachel thought about all the bad feelings she had been having lately. Could it be a result to her connection to Apollo? "What do you mean? Why?"

"We don't know." She replied with a sigh. Aphrodite began filing away, seemingly getting nervous, trying not to make eye contact with Rachel. "Apollo is my friend. He's a powerful god, and very complicated—he's the only man on Olympus I haven't slept with, you know—not that that has anything to do with anything, and _believe _me, I'm not bragging, but…" her voice trailed off.

"What does any of this have to do with me?" Rachel spoke up, trying to catch Aphrodite's eye.

"He's your patron god." The goddess responded. "Other hand." She demanded.

Rachel gave her her other hand. "So?"

"Well, we—I, was hoping that you could do some really cool oracle connection thingy to him, and maybe see what's bothering him?" She looked up at Rachel finally, her eyes practically pleading. "We use the rain to cover the fact that the sun is not in the appropriate position in the sky. We can't do it for much longer."

Rachel was shocked. She didn't know what she could say to anything that the goddess was throwing at her. Not to mention, she didn't even know how to _do _what Aphrodite was asking her to do. She hadn't really had any lessons, there wasn't like…an elective at school that covered this kind of stuff. But, she knew that she did have a connection to Apollo, and that somehow, she should be able to use it.

"I…" Rachel began, as if she were ashamed. "I don't know how."

Aphrodite slung Rachel's hand away in frustration. She narrowed her eyes at her, and again they took on their golden color. "What do you mean you don't know how?" She screamed, and as she did, there was the unmistakable sound of glass breaking. A light bulb in the lamp by Rachel's bed had been broken.

"Um," Rachel began weakly. "I take back what I said earlier—turns out I am a bit scared of you."

The goddess sighed a heavy, frustrated sigh, and snatched Rachel's hand back, and began filing furiously at her left middle finger. "I'm sorry. It's just…this is all so stressful. And we think you're our only hope. We just need to know what in Hades has Apollo so…so…odd."

"I…I guess I can try." Rachel offered, though she felt she was going to regret saying so. There was nothing she wanted more than to use her abilities to help, but, at the same time, she wanted to make sure everyone remained safe.

"Thank you!" Aphrodite shrieked. "What color?"

It took Rachel a second to figure out that she was talking about nail polish. "Green, I guess." Rachel said with a shrug.

"Green?" Aphrodite asked, disapprovingly. "You're not a reptile, you're a girl, Rachel. How about a pretty girl color?"

"You're the beauty expert," Rachel said, trying her hardest not to be offended. "Why don't you decide?"

"If you insist." Aphrodite said, a pleased smile on her face. "Hot pink it is!" She held the bottle up for Rachel to examine it.

"Great…" Rachel said, with fake enthusiasm.

"So, anyway," Aphrodite started. "Whenever I've seen Apollo's little fangirls try to link to him, I've noticed they use relics—things they feel draw them near to him so—" she fished through the bag again, and pulled out a handheld mirror, bordered in silver, that looked like it could have been ancient. Rachel briefly saw her reflection in the mirror, and couldn't help but notice she looked like nothing in comparison to Aphrodite. "—here you go."

Aphrodite handed the mirror to Rachel. It didn't take a genius to figure out the mirror belonged to Apollo, Rachel could practically feel his aura radiating from the device. It was made of real silver, and was surprisingly heavy, not wanting to break it, Rachel set it gently down on the bed beside her.

"Go ahead," Aphrodite provoked. "Try something. I'll finish your nails." She smiled.

Rachel returned the smile, but her smile was more of a nervous one. She placed her hands on the glass, and closed her eyes.

-1-

Suddenly, Rachel was standing in the midst of trees. She looked down; she was still wearing her T-shirt and basketball shorts. But, she was in a new place altogether. Somehow, what she had just done had done something, though she was unsure what it was—or whether it was a good thing it had been done.

She stood in a forest of sorts, nothing but trees and woods surrounded her. But, from somewhere around her, she could hear the distinct sounds of battle. She had learned them well over the past several months.

Upon turning around, Rachel saw there was a clearing just ahead. Slowly and carefully, she walked towards it. She was treading softly, not wanting to mess anything up. Afraid that any wrong move, and she'd have all twelve Olympians pissed at her. And that was a fate she didn't want to meet.

When she passed through the clearing, the first thing she saw was Apollo. He was laying on his stomach on a steep ledge, propping his head up on his arms, looking down below, to what seemed to be a sparring match.

Rachel noticed suddenly, that Apollo was shirtless, and his bottom half was covered by linen, draped and tucked so keenly, that you could tell it was part of his outfit. And on top of his head, Apollo wore a crown of vines, entangled into a circle that so perfectly fit his head.

The men below were dressed similarly, and each had their own weapon—a dagger, a sword, a spear, whatever, and they all looked at each other with competition in their eyes. Rachel didn't know whether this was for money or entertainment, just that it wasn't a real battle.

She directed her gaze back to the sun god, who sighed and watched the men as two out of the crowd stepped up, and began to duel to find out who the superior among them was. Simple men, doing what men do, competing, trying to outdo one another. Something Rachel had tasted from time to time, the taste of the competition.

"Do you ever feel, oh, I don't know—creepy, doing that?" A familiar voice said from behind her. She spun around, and saw Aphrodite approaching from the woods behind her. The goddess looked different, more of a natural beautiful, than Rachel was used to. Her face wasn't caked in makeup, and her hair was a natural shade of blonde, and just one color, at that. She almost looked like a different person.

Apollo didn't even look, he knew who it was that had come to him, and Rachel had a sense he knew why. Aphrodite perched herself gracefully on a large rock, rather than sitting on the ground, and pulled the length of her dress up, to keep it out of the dirt.

"Don't you feel creepy, you know—watching me do this?" Apollo countered. He never looked away from the rendezvous that was going on below.

Aphrodite slowly looked out at the men that were killing time a little bit away. "Fair enough," she replied. "You know, you could actually go over there. I bet that would help some."

It never occurred to Rachel why Apollo was watching these guys duke it out. She hadn't really had time to think about anything. From what she gathered, something she did—and she didn't do much—had landed her back in time. She didn't know if it was the right time, or why she was even back in time, or, honestly if she really was.

Maybe Aphrodite had slipped her some sort of funky drug?

Nah. This was real. Rachel knew it. She was excited to be actively using this gift she had been bestowed with, yet, at the same time, was careful. Because she knew that it was, indeed, a gift, and if she made the wrong move, it could be taken away as easily as it was given to her.

"That's not a good idea," Apollo replied. "This is too—odd."

"It's not odd!" Aphrodite retorted, throwing her hands in the air like she had told him that repeatedly, and perhaps she had. "It's becoming more and more common, and it's cute!"

"Is that why you're doing this?" Apollo asked, finally looking at her. "Because you think it's _cute? _These are people's _emotions, _Aphrodite! You can't just _play _with them!"

She stood up to defend herself. "Don't you dare tell me how to do my job! I don't go around telling you how to drive your little sun chariot…thingy!"

Apollo moved himself to a sitting position, and looked up at her. "That's because you don't know how to drive a chariot." He told her, with acid on his tongue. He sighed, and didn't wait for her to respond. "Why are you doing this to me?" he slumped himself on a rock.

"This is about Daphne, isn't it?" She asked him.

He looked up at her, pain recognizable on his face. "Daphne," he growled, "was a woman."

Aphrodite placed her hand under Apollo's chin and raised his head so that he was looking the standing goddess in the eyes. "Daphne," she repeated in mock tone, "was a floozy."

Apollo smacked her hand away from him. "Hyacinth is Spartan royalty. Not to mention the small fact that he happens to be a guy."

Rachel wasn't exactly surprised. She had read the myths about Apollo and his male lovers. She knew that he used to have several, though, whether he continued to pursue other men in her time, she did not know.

"What does it matter?" Aphrodite asked, looking from him to her nails. "Love knows no gender. Trust me, I _am _love."

"It feels…." Apollo began. "It feels wrong."

Aphrodite rolled her eyes. "Look. This is my game. I make up the rules, it's not wrong unless I say it's wrong. Sure, other people will say it's wrong, but it's not their call. So, suck it up, be a man, and go _get _your man."

"I don't even know what to do…" Apollo said, and then continued. "Maybe I'll write him a Haiku." He smiled.

"Do whatever you want," Aphrodite shrugged, and began taking a hairclip with a small flower woven in it from her hair. Once it was in her hand, she held it in her palm a second, gripped it tight, and without warning, threw it. It soared through the air, going farther than humanly possible, and landed right in the center of the sparring men. They all looked up at the ledge. "Oh, Apollo, it seems I've dropped my hair clip," she looked again, "and Hyacinth has picked it up. Could you pretty please go retrieve it from him?" she blinked twice.

Apollo said, suddenly. "How did you learn to throw like that?"

Aphrodite looked down. "When you…know as many people as I do, you meet some guys with some _really _unique fetishes."

"Ew." Apollo said, and he began to head down the ledge to get Aphrodite's accessory back for her.

-2-

"Excuse me," a guy stepped away from the crowd, holding up Aphrodite's flowered hair clip. "Does uh…this belong to you?"

Rachel knew instantly, that it must have been the prince Apollo fancied—he was exactly as all the myths described him, devastatingly gorgeous, strong, but not bodybuilder buff, he had more of a slim, athletic figure, which, speaking under mythological terms, was what attracted Apollo to the young prince the most.

His hair was a natural black, a beautiful, almost perfect color. Rachel scoffed—it seemed everyone had better hair than she did. The thing that entranced her the most, however, were his light blue eyes, that were almost the white color of artic ice. He had the perfect combination of features, tan skin, light eyes, dark hair—Rachel knew now, why Apollo was so infatuated.

"Yeah—" Apollo said, then shook his head. "I mean, no…it belongs to the girl up there." He pointed up to where Aphrodite sat suggestively on the ledge.

"Ah," replied Hyacinth, looking up at her briefly, then back down to Apollo. "Your wife?"

"Huh?" Apollo looked startled as he stood in front of the prince, trying not to make it obvious he was nervous—but Rachel could tell he was. "No! Me and her? I'm like the only guy who _hasn't _slept with her…" his voice trailed off as he realized what he was saying.

The prince held back his amusement, but smiled a bit, and handed the hair clip back to Apollo. "Than she's your…?" he prompted, gesturing with his hands as well.

"Sister." He lied plainly, probably trying to keep himself from any further embarrassment. "She's my sister. She's a tad clumsy—always dropping something." He smiled.

"Ah," replied Hyacinth. "Well, she _dropped _it right on my friend's head." He gestured over to where a very unhappy-looking man stood, giving him the evil eye.

"Sorry!" Apollo yelled. "I'll write you a haiku if it will make you feel better!"

The raven-haired prince laughed, and pushed his bangs from in front of his eyes. "You write poetry?" He asked, he shifted his weight, and grabbed his left elbow with his right hand. Aphrodite had definitely began working her magic.

Apollo's cheeks turned bright red. "You could say I'm almost a god, when it comes to poetry."

Hyacinth looked surprised. Rachel knew it was a risky move back then, for one to compare himself to a god, but the prince didn't seem to mind. "Oh?" he asked, looking at Apollo almost suspiciously. "Well, then how are you at swordsmanship?"

"Not so much." Apollo answered honestly, with a nervous laugh. "I've dabbled a bit in archery, though. My sister and I—my, um…other sister."

"I'll be out here again tomorrow," Hyacinth explained. "You should show up and bring your sword anyway. I bet you're better than you think." He gave a sly, almost embarrassed smile as he looked at the god, unsure really of what to think of him.

"Same time?" Apollo asked, trying to be smooth with his flirting. But, if there was one thing Rachel had learned about Apollo, it was that he was a notoriously bad at flirting.

"Same time." The prince confirmed, he turned to walk away, but stopped. "Oh, and tell your sister that next time she throws something at the prince, to make sure she actually hits him." He laughed.

"Will do." Apollo said. "Hey, I don't know your name." That was a lie, Rachel knew it. She wouldn't be surprised if Apollo knew everything about the boy—hell, she'd bet money he'd watched him shower.

"Hyacinth." He answered. "Prince Hyacinth, heir to the throne of Sparta." He said it proudly, because he knew to most people, it would be impressive. However, as far as impressing titles went, Apollo took the cake here. "And your name?"

"You can call me Fred." Apollo answered. Rachel wanted to smack her forehead in embarrassment over the god. Not only had his alias name not even been a plausible name for that time period, but that also meant it hadn't changed in thousands of years.

Hyacinth looked confused for a moment. But it passed, he bid farewell to Apollo and headed off back to his friends.

-3—

The wind blew gently, pushing Apollo's long bangs into his face. He continuously pushed his hair to the side, but not much success was reached in him doing so. The field was open, silent. Rachel couldn't even hear the songs of the birds in the distance. It was, however, a beautiful day.

She studied the god carefully. Rachel was connected to Apollo in a cosmic way—in some respects, she was a part of him. She knew the god almost as well as he knew himself…and she could tell he was nervous. It was a side of the Apollo she didn't get to see often—actually, she couldn't recall ever seeing him in a nervous state. Usually, he walked around hitting on every girl with cheap pick-up lines and poorly sketched haikus, blissfully unaware of how lame he actually was. But everyone loved him, nonetheless.

Rachel knew all too well the jitters of a first date. She always worried far too much—but not even on the things that normal girls worried about like what to wear, or how much perfume is _too _much, but of things like "what if he just asked me out as a joke?" or "what if he stands me up?"

Apollo shifted uncomfortably and glanced at the sword in his hand. He was wearing a set of leather battle armor, the kind you would normally wear in training or a duel, even in Rachel's time.

"Fred?" Apollo gasped when the prince lightly tapped on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, took half a second to gather himself, and turned around, greeting the prince with a warm smile.

"Prince Hyacinth," he greeted with a bow (that actually looked more like a courtesy). "It's a pleasure."

"Why so formal?" The Spartan heir questioned. "There's no need for that outside the palace. We may be on Spartan territory, but in these fields, the only ruler is the one who is most respected for his skills."

"Ah." Apollo said. He was looking at Hyacinth—clear lust in his eyes. There was an attraction so thick between the two even _Rachel _could feel it. "Where are your…friends?"

"Friends?"

"The guys that were here yesterday that my um…sister dropped her hair clip on." Apollo explained. He laughed nervously. Rachel smiled—it was almost adorable how dorky the sun god was being.

"Oh," realization passed over Hyacinth's face. "Those are actually my guards. My father usually makes me travel with them."

"And you didn't bring them today?" Apollo grinned.

"I felt like coming alone."

Apollo's heart leaped with joy.

-4-

"Let's go again." The prince suggested. Their eyes met and locked, and they began to circle each other like vultures circle a carcass.

For what seemed like forever, Rachel had watched Apollo pretend to know nothing about swordsmanship, and the two flirt back and forth with each other. She knew that she wouldn't be seeing this if something important wasn't going to happen. She supposed she just had to be patient.

She thought back to a time when she was with Apollo, and they were talking about his past and his children. It had taken her a long time to get the courage to ask him, but she wanted to know. She asked him if he had ever truly been in love. He looked away from her, caught a point in the room to stare at, and simply said "Once."

She wondered if this was that once.

Hyacinth charged Apollo suddenly followed by a smooth slash of his sword, at the last possible second, Apollo parried the blow at an angle which sent the prince's arm flying backward. Taking advantage of this, Apollo stepped forward and jabbed, but Hyacinth sidestepped, and grabbed Apollo's blade arm with his free hand, pulling Apollo inward while simultaneously shoving his blade arm behind his back. Apollo's back was against Hyacinth's chest now, and they held that position for a few seconds.

As Rachel was begging to think that Apollo wasn't actually _letting _Hyacinth win, the Spartan prince pushed Apollo forward, and the god stumbled, almost losing his balance. After collecting himself, he charged Hyacinth, slashing with his blade furiously. It was getting harder and harder for Hyacinth to dodge and parry the blows, so he attempted to step back, which is when Apollo knew he had the upper hand, and he effortlessly slid his foot under Hyacinth's, sending the prince tumbling to the ground.

Apollo leapt for the ground and mounted the prince's chest, keeping him from getting up, and he pinned both his arms to the ground.

Hyacinth coughed, and then looked at him with a grin. "You're a fast learner." He panted heavily.

"You're a good teacher." Apollo replied.

The Spartan prince smiled a devastatingly gorgeous smile. Something about that smile must have driven Apollo crazy, because he let go of the Hyacinth's left arm, and slid his hand under the prince's neck, slowly gliding up to his head, stroking Hyacinth's long, black hair. Hyacinth looked surprised at first, but did not fight Apollo's touch. Apollo began to lift Hyacinth's head, while taking his other hand slowly sliding it down his arm, until he got to the prince's hand, and their fingers gently interlaced. Apollo turned his head slightly, and serenely moved forward until his lips almost met with Hyacinth's. He hesitated a second, but he was close enough that he could surely feel the Hyacinth's warm breath mixing with his.

The Spartan prince didn't fight, so Apollo kissed him gently, and then pulled away. But, instantly went back, kissing the prince more deeply, passionately, when suddenly, Hyacinth pulled away. He then pushed the god off him. Apollo looked stunned as he let go of Hyacinth's hand. They looked at each other, Hyacinth with an expression of stunned shame. Their eyes locked for what seemed like an hour, when Hyacinth finally yanked his sword out of the grass and took off in a sprint into the woods.

Rachel's glance went straight to Apollo. Who had risen to his feet, sword in hand, probably to run after Hyacinth. But he didn't. He pushed his sword into the dirt, and looked off into the distance. The pain the god was feeling was palpable. It was then Rachel realized that even the gods could truly love—that they still had feelings, very human. She could only guess that the reason they try to seem so insensitive and unbroken because showing their true colors exposed their true weaknesses. And weaknesses, after all, led to defeat.

She blinked. But, when her eyes opened, she was no longer standing in an open field. The oracle was now surrounded by stone walls on each side, ravishingly decorated with colorful cloths and shields and paintings probably painted by the best artists of the time.

In the corner, she saw only what she could imagine to be a bed, skirted in silken cloth and dressed in fine gold and crimson cotton as a blanket. Rachel was a smart girl—she knew that this place was far too handsomely decorated for commoners. She assumed she was likely in the bedroom of Prince Hyacinth.

**A/N Originally, this was supposed to be a oneshot. However, when I realized how long it was going to be, I figured out that that is probably not the best idea. So, I figure I'm going to split it into three different chapters. I hope you guys enjoyed it. **


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